


The Fairy Gift

by sadlikeknives



Category: Benjamin January Mysteries - Barbara Hambly
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlikeknives/pseuds/sadlikeknives
Summary: "So let me get this straight. You seduced a fairy queen, stole her fiddle, and now this fairy queen is in New Orleans and she wants it back?"





	The Fairy Gift

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, guys. It's thehumantrampoline's fault.

As late night meetings at the January residence on Rue Esplanade went, this was far from the first one, although it might have been the most unusual.

"So let me get this straight," Abishag Shaw of the New Orleans City Guards said with the infinite patience with which he might have laid out a case in court, "you seduced a fairy queen, stole her fiddle--"

"Stole is a strong word," Hannibal Sefton protested.

" _Stole_ her fiddle--"

"It was a gift.  Also, it's a violin."

"You stole her fiddle," Benjamin January said, and Hannibal gave up.

"And now this fairy queen is in the New World, specifically in New Orleans, and she wants it back?"

"That's about it, yes."

"Do you need to sit down?" Ben asked Shaw quietly. Shaw gave him an incredulous look, and Ben said, "I was there an hour ago."

"Also," Rose put in, "the fiddle--"

"It is a _violin_ \--"

"--is apparently what's keeping him from dying, so we really don't want the fairy queen to take it back." 

"Maestro, I will take that chair now," Shaw said, and Ben obligingly pulled one out for him. He sat down in it and put his head in his hands.

"It really was a gift," Hannibal protested.

Shaw lifted his head and all but yelled, "You don't take gifts from fairies!" Ben and Rose both frantically hushed him; their children were asleep in the other room, and the students upstairs. Shaw continued in a harsh whisper, "For God's sake, Sefton, if my granny taught me one thing it was that! What did you fancy people get taught?"

Hannibal looked embarrassed. "That fairies aren't real, mostly."

"Well, guess what?"

"Yes, I know that now. But in my defense, until earlier this evening I thought I'd hallucinated the entire thing."

Shaw put his head back in his hands, and Ben turned to the last member of this little gathering, his sister, Olympe. "You've been awfully quiet," he said.

She stood in the corner with her arms wrapped around herself; now she loosed one of them to gesture, helplessly, between Hannibal and Shaw. "Ben, this is not my area of expertise. Now, if you want me to put a curse on this fairy queen--"

"No," Shaw said into his hands. "No, we should definitely not curse a fairy queen."

"--although Michie Shaw seems to think that would be a bad idea, and he certainly knows more about these white people's fairies than I do, but I could do that, _if_ had something of hers, and the only thing that might qualify is a violin of questionable ownership." Shaw lifted his head again, this time like he'd scented a trail, as Olympe said, "And I would mightily hate to have the curse backfire and hit Hannibal."

"Much obliged, Madame Snakebones," Hannibal said.

Ben's attention was on Shaw. "You got something?"

"Maybe. If I remember my bedtime stories Granny wasn't supposed to be telling us because only the word of God is allowed in this household correctly, the fairies are very particular about bending rules instead of breaking them. The letter of the law instead of the spirit, things like that. And, well. Possession, nine-tenths, all of that. So depending on what exactly was _said_ when this fiddle--"

"It is a _violin_."

"What did I just say about words mattering, Sefton? It might be a fiddle now." Hannibal opened his mouth and then closed it again. "Depending on what was said when the fiddle exchanged hands, well...we might be able to use that."

"And to think I brought you in on this in case we needed to put him or the violin—fiddle in jail," Ben said admiringly to Shaw.

Shaw considered that. "Iron bars aren't the worst idea..."

Ben turned back to Hannibal. "So, what _exactly_ did the fairy queen say when she gave you the fiddle?"

"I—there are ladies present!"

"Rose, you're closer," Olympe said. "You hit him for me." Rose obligingly smacked Hannibal on the back of his head.

"Well, you know, we exchanged pleasantries--"

" _Exactly_ ," Rose said.

"She said, 'Be my consort and you will live forever,' and I agreed that that sounded like a fair deal, and she, ah, gave me a kiss and the violin to seal the bargain, as it were..."

"Is that exactly what she said?" Rose asked.

"Yes."

"She didn't say, 'Be my consort forever,' or, 'Be my consort and stay with me in the halls of fairy overnight while a hundred years pass by for everyone else?'" Shaw asked.

"No, nothing like that."

"And did you?" Ben asked. "Ah, consort with the fairy queen?"

"I don't see how that's--"

"Madame Janvier, if you would be so kind as to hit him again," Shaw requested.

"Yes," Hannibal said, rather pink. "Yes, I did—consort with the fairy queen."

"So the terms of the bargain were met," Ben said. "Right? If she never specified that he had to _stay_ her consort."

"It depends on what was said about the violin, I think," Olympe said, her eyes narrowed as she considered the problem. "If it was only supposed to stay with him as long as he was her consort."

"That might have been how she _meant_ it," Shaw allowed, "but if she didn't _say_ that..."

"You must remember," Hannibal said, "that I was very drunk on elfwine at the time, but I believe her exact words were, 'Take this instrument as a token of my love.'"

"There you go," Olympe said. "It's his. She gave it to him freely. Now we just have to convince the fairy queen of it."

"You have to talk them in knots, my granny said," Shaw supplied.

"You know who would be perfect for the job," Rose said.

A terrible feeling came upon Ben. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes," Rose said. "We'll have to call upon Dominique first thing in the morning."

Everyone sat in silent contemplation of that for a moment, then Olympe bestirred herself and said, "Well. I really must be getting home. It's well past curfew."

"Of course I would be happy to escort you, ma'm," Shaw said.

"Thank you, Michie Shaw, much obliged. Ben, do keep me informed," she said, shooting him an inscrutable look just before she stepped out onto the banquette, with Shaw following her out. Ben closed the shutters behind them, then came back to sit with Rose and Hannibal around the table, all the candles put out but the branch flickering between them.

"I don't want to live forever, though," Hannibal said softly. "But I do want to live for right now."

Rose reached over and patted his hand. "Don't worry," she said. "We'll work it out."

"You've met Dominique, haven't you?" Ben asked. As reluctant as he was to involve her in this, Rose wasn't wrong: she was perfect for it. "It will all be fine."

"By the time she's done, they'll have thrown in the elflands for good measure," Rose joked, or perhaps it wasn't a joke. Ben wouldn't be too surprised.

Something occurred to him then, and he said, to the general agreement of all, "My mother must never know of this."

***

They had arrived at the house the fairy queen and her court had taken over, and been shown in for tea, though they had, as per Abishag Shaw's strict instructions and Olympe's agreement that it was probably a bad idea, politely declined to partake. The queen, so beautiful she hurt to look upon, had asked him if he was there to return the violin, and Dominique had said, "Oh, but you must understand, dearest, of course it is his violin! You see, it's just like I was telling Phlosine Seurat the other day," and then she was off and running.

She had been talking for over an hour now. The fairy queen and her courtiers had the same glazed-over expression as their entranced human servants. Hannibal, for whom Dominique's run of gossip had real value, had lost track somewhere in the middle of an anecdote about one of the Picard girls.

And then, quite suddenly, Dominique said, "And so of course you simply _must_ agree," and playfully tapped the fairy queen's wrist with her fan.

"Yes, of course, I—"

As the fairy queen started to shake off her daze, Dominique cried, "Wonderful! I knew you would come to see things our way. Now, if you would just sign these papers our dear friend Monsieur Shaw helped my brother draw up to show the nature of our agreement? We wouldn't want any more of these silly little misunderstandings, would we?" Somehow she had produced quill and ink, along with the papers, and the queen, still slightly dazed, was signing _without reading the contract_. "Very good," Dominique said, blowing on the signature to dry it before folding the papers back up and tucking them away in her bag. "Now, Monsieur Sefton and I really must be going. I hope you have a lovely visit to New Orleans, darling, it was ever so nice to meet you! Why, I've never met a real live fairy before! But we really must be on our way now, come along, Monsieur Sefton."

"What just happened?" Hannibal asked, dazed, as they stepped out into the street, finding himself still in possession of both his violin and his life, along, more improbably, perhaps, with his freedom.

"Whatever do you mean?" Dominique asked. "I just talked her around. Simple as anything."

"Madame," Hannibal said solemnly. "You truly are a treasure."

Dominique rolled her eyes. "Silly man. It was nothing. Now come along, we really do have to hurry. Henri is coming over for dinner and I have to change my dress first."


End file.
